From Florence to Berlin
by Whimsical Gypsy
Summary: "Fantastico! I'm glad I met you, Roderich! Let's be friends from now on!" the young man cheers. The day Feliciano arrived in Berlin was the day the sun shone brightly through the thick clouds of heaven. The sky clears, revealing heaven's azure. One-Shot. Also, mentions Hungary and fem!Germany. This is not a romance fic between Feli and Roderich. Safe rating, no cuss words involved.


**Author's Note: You do not need to read these, my lovely readers! Anyway, a random Hetalia fanfic that just plagued my mind! This was just a practice for one of my essays in English. **

**Disclaimer*: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers, sadly, it is rightfully Hideakaz Himaruya's.**

**I do not own all the characters mentioned in this story.**

**The image used is rightfully the creator/artist and all credit goes to that person.**

Feliciano hops off the train in excitement. The Italian cannot believe he finally arrives in Berlin! He quickly pushes through the throngs of foreign people he does not recognize; then stops to look around the bustling train station, surrounded by Europeans hurrying to catch their ride. He smiles charmingly and tips off his beige fedora towards a group of young women in pastel colored dresses. They giggle and flip their luscious curls and swish their flounce dresses, ruffles and laces flying everywhere in a colorful blur. The train's whistle echoes loudly and Feliciano rushes off to find his newly found friend. He knocks a crisp newspaper from the hands of a man in a pin-striped suit and bumps into a fair maiden in an aqua blue dress. The young man smiles apologetically towards her and says sorry in an Italian accent; and she smiles back, almost embarrassed, as a blush spreads across her already rosy cheeks. He bids her goodbye and walks off towards the center of the train station.

Feliciano is in a daze as he gazes at the wealthy looking people around him. Their expensive suits and dresses made from the finest silk found in China; and their coats spun and woven carefully from wool made from factories in England. He feels a little out-of-place with his slightly worn out fedora; and a faded tan-colored trench coat made from a woolly material that keeps him warm. Still, Feliciano felt happy as he makes his way through the crowd gracefully, as if he were dancing to a waltz. The burgundy haired Italian grins brightly as he sees a familiar face.

"There you are! I thought I have lost you, Mr. Vargas," a stern looking Austrian with a scowl on his face calls out at him. He is easily discerned through the crowd of people with an air of an aristocrat, he is not too difficult to miss. He pushes his glasses up and gives Feliciano a look, "Where have you been? Berlin is an enormous city and rather easy to get lost in a crowded place like this." The wealthy young man scolds lightly.

"Ve… I am sorry, Roderich! It's just that… this place is huge! I haven't been to Germany before!" the innocent little Italian exclaims as he blows a kiss towards a pretty girl. She giggles and caught the imaginary kiss. The Austrian sighs tiredly, yet a small smile still escapes from the corner of his lips.

"Alright then, I suppose you can take a look around, but please be more aware and do not get lost. It is rather troublesome to find you in such a place." Roderich smiles at the Italian.

"Si, signore!" he replies with a mock salute, feeling happiness and excitement run through his veins.

"Come along now, Mr. Vargas. You do not want Lydia to keep waiting for too long now, would you?" the Austrian asks in a distinct German accent. He is already several feet ahead of Feliciano, clutching a black leather suitcase.

The little Italian perks up upon hearing her name, his beloved's name. "Lydia…" he sighs longingly, trying to picture her beautiful face in his mind. Feliciano can almost see her icy blue eyes piercing his golden brown ones. He can almost feel her soft and gentle touch, her dazzling smile that he seldom sees and golden hair that shines brightly under the sunlight. She is the epitome of perfection! A fallen angel banished from Paradise and sent to live in earth for eternity. Feliciano opens his eyes and letting the image fade slowly in the back of his mind.

Roderich, upon noticing this, smiles knowingly. He knows what it feels like being in love. "Ve~ I can't wait to see her!" the orange haired young man snaps out of his reverie and speeds past the aristocrat. "Let's go, let's go!" he shouts, waving his arms wildly. Feliciano almost smacks a German officer with his leather briefcase.

The officer steps back in shock, before walking away and cussing out in German. Roderich lets out a laugh, walking gracefully beside the Italian.

His laugh sounds like music in Feliciano's ears and he just had to ask. "Say, do you play an instrument? I'm just wondering, you look like a musician or a maestro! I mean, that'd be great if you know how to play one! Do you know how to play the cello? How about the piano? It's a good instrument! Do you—I-I'm very sorry! I got carried away… um…" he rants, then stops awkwardly.

"…Yes, I do. I know how to play the cello, piano, and the violin. I am, in fact, a musician; but that was ages ago." Roderich muses with a pleasant look upon his handsome face.

"Really? I've always thought you can play every instrument, ever since the first time I met you back in Florence." His companion replies.

"You were right, Mr. Vargas, but I no longer play as much as I used to… ever since…" the Austrian trails off uncertainly. A memory of the people he fought and killed during those dark times appears in his mind. That was several years ago and Roderich can still vividly remember the war like it was yesterday. Those images still haunt him like a plague, horrifying nightmares that kept him up for days. If it wasn't for Elizaveta, he would have become an insomniac.

Sensing the tense atmosphere and Roderich's reluctance to continue, Feliciano drops the subject and hastily tries to brighten up the gloomy mood.

"A-anyway… how do we get to Lydia's house?" he asks weakly, fidgeting the hem of his coat.

"Ah… we just need to take this route to arrive at her house." His companion gestures towards an intersection in the street. Chryslers speed past the two and the Italian jumps back in surprise when he saw a BMW heading his way. "V-ve…! That was scary!" Feliciano pales, who was nearly ran over by a silver BMW driven by a drunk German.

"You will get used to it…" Roderich smiles cheekily, forgetting the horrors of his past momentarily. The younger man nods in reply. "Well, shall we go then, Mr. Vargas?" the Austrian offers.

"…Just call me Feliciano, just as I call you Roderich instead of Mr. Edelstein," the Italian tips his head to the side, flashing him a pleasant smile. "We are friends, after all."  
"Friends? Humph. Well then, I shall call you Feliciano and you may call me Roderich." He sighs.

"Fantastico! I'm glad I met you, Roderich! Let's be friends from now on!" the young man cheers. The day Feliciano arrived in Berlin was the day the sun shone brightly through the thick clouds of heaven. The sky clears, revealing heaven's azure.

**END**


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